


Things We Said Today

by thucydides_groupie



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: 18th Century Medicine, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Menstruation, Mental Health Issues, Religious Discussion, Slow Burn, something no one asked for but maybe something we needed all along
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28380948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thucydides_groupie/pseuds/thucydides_groupie
Summary: In which circumstances occur that lead to one Mrs. Woodhull and one Major Tallmadge becoming more acquainted than they ever thought possible.
Relationships: Benjamin Tallmadge/Mary Woodhull
Comments: 10
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashes_of_roses (KendraLuehr)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraLuehr/gifts).



> ashes_of_roses and I were talking, and she mentioned this pairing, and now I can’t stop shipping Mary with everyone besides Abe. Mary deserved better...

Mary was annoyed to say the least. She didn’t want to be here. _Back_ here. Especially after the words she and the Major had exchanged that morning. Yet there she was, stood outside of the entrance to his tent, trying to decide on her next move.

“Thomas!” She had tried to call after her son, but her son was proving to be cleverer, and therefore more troublesome, with each passing day. And the boy had easily evaded by crawling under one of the nearby tent flaps. Mary had burst into the tent after him, not even considering her actions, and she had startled in surprise at the sight of a half-dressed soldier and a camp follower consummating their relationship on the soldier’s cot. She very nearly yelped aloud, but she managed to stop herself, and she quickly made herself scarce before either of the parties had noticed her presence. She was still reeling from the sight she had just witnessed when she noticed a familiar pair of boots out of the corner of her eye. She turned instinctively and managed to catch sight of Thomas fleeing from the tent before her and now rushing off to find a new hiding place.

“Thomas!” She said again. She was self-conscious of raising her voice any louder. After all, Major Tallmadge said she was not allowed in this section of camp. Despite that, no one had spared her a passing glance, and she was beginning to doubt the man.

Mary ducked around a few men as she continued her pursuit of her son, praying for God to give her patience, something He surely knew she would need in the coming months. And then she stopped her pace abruptly, her heart still hammering from her chase, but now it continued hammering for a different reason.

God worked in mysterious ways. She learned a long time ago that the Lord had a peculiar sense of humor. But this…? This seemed cruel even for Him, for Thomas had fled directly into Major Tallmadge’s tent.

She stood there for only a few seconds, but those seconds felt like eons as she remembered their exchange earlier that day.

_“Major Tallmadge?” She remembered how hesitant she had been to step into his tent. She knew she was interrupting him, but then she saw Mr. Brewster there and his presence calmed her slightly._

_She remembered how anxious the Major became. “What are you—” And then he stopped himself and frantically looked behind her, as if he was certain she was being followed. And Mary had forgotten any ease she had begun to feel._

_“Am I intruding?”_

_“Mary, camp followers are not allowed to enter this section of the camp, let alone to walk directly into my tent.”_

_“You said if I needed anything, I should come to you, and what I need is information on my husband.”_

_“Information?”_

_And then when she said General Arnold’s name… She could still see the look of disgust on the Major’s face. She knew it was perhaps against protocol for Abe to share his mission with her, but she was his wife after all. Hadn’t she sacrificed just as much as him for the cause? For the Major’s cause? And yet her husband’s friend had stood there. He looked her in the eye and scolded her,_

_“Madam, while you are amongst this army, you will follow this army’s rules. So long as you wish to remain here, you will obey the chain of command. Is that understood?”_

_Oh how she wanted to throttle him. How dare he speak to her like that! That’s what she wanted to say. But she would never speak out of turn like that. She knew her place, and as much as she detested it, she knew better than to make an enemy out of the Major. And she had very nearly reassured herself when these words left the Major’s mouth,_

_“Now you will be excused.”_

_She glared at him then. She couldn’t stop herself. She remembered the man saying something else. Something about them wanting to same thing; to protect Abe. But she did not care what he had to say. His words had been demeaning, and she was still offended by them. And she hoped her silent retreat from his tent made him aware of that fact too._

Yet there she was. She paused outside his tent, half hoping to see Thomas scurry out of the other side, and half hoping for the Major to step outside leading Thomas in his wake. But neither of those things happened. Mary knew her son was still inside, and she knew he had found a new hiding spot. She wasn’t sure how Thomas knew, but a part of her was certain he was doing this on purpose.

And after those couple of second passed, Mary took a deep breath and stepped into the Major’s tent once more. She walked silently, being careful not to make a sound. Perhaps if she met Thomas’ gaze, she could motion for him, convince him to leave on his own accord. She stepped inside.

The Major was alone, sat at his writing desk, his back to the entrance of his tent, and for that Mary silently thanked God. Her eyes quickly darted around the room until they finally landed on Thomas. She wasn’t sure how her boy had managed it, but he was hiding under the Major’s cot. Thomas glanced at his mother briefly, but then he grinned and averted his gaze.

Before Mary could think of how to proceed, to her horror she saw what Thomas’ attention was being drawn too. On top of the cot sat the Major’s dragoon helmet. The horsehairs situated on top of the helmet were half draped over the edge of the cot… and Thomas’ small hands were reaching right for them.

“Thomas!” Mary wanted to badly to call out. But she held her tongue and she closed her eyes in embarrassment as Thomas grasped the horsehairs on the helmet and pulled it off the cot. The helmet tumbled to the ground with a sharp _thud._ She opened her eyes just in time to see the Major startle and jump from his chair. His hand flew to his belt, but he paused upon seeing the sight on the ground. Thomas, completely unfazed by the noise he had caused, was proceeding to pull the helmet over his head. If circumstances were different, Mary may have smirked, but she couldn’t. Not now.

Her eyes darted back to Major, fearing the worst; fearing he may snap at Thomas and cause the boy to cry. But the Major had the complete opposite reaction.

He relaxed upon seeing Thomas, not once glancing in the direction of the tent’s entrance, where Mary was still rooted in her place. And then the Major did something that surprised Mary; he chuckled.

“Where’s your mama?” he asked quietly. He approached Thomas and knelt down beside him, pushing the helmet back to reveal Thomas’ eyes. The boy giggled up at the man, keeping a firm grip on the horsehairs that were now dangling in his face. Then Thomas pointed in Mary’s direction, and she felt the color drain from her face. Her son was clever. He pointed at her because he was answering the Major’s question: _Where’s your mama?_

The Major turned and raised his eyebrows in surprise as he finally noticed Mary.

“Mrs. Woodhull.” He greeted. He was taken aback. She could tell from the way he awkwardly rose to his feet, forgetting all about her son at his feet.

“Major.” She bowed her head slightly, still incredibly embarrassed at the circumstances. She tensed, expecting to receive another tongue-lashing from the man, but that proved to be in vain, because the man didn’t say more on the subject. Next thing she knew, he was stood in front of her, with his helmet tucked under one arm and holding Thomas’ hand with the other. He passed her son to her, and she gladly gripped her son’s hand, keeping him by her side now. Then she looked up at her husband’s friend, her nose wrinkling slightly in suspicion. But the man did not look angered. He looked… embarrassed. But how was that possible? She wondered. What could be possibly be embarrassed about?

“Mrs. Woodhull.” He said again. “I apologize for my harsh words earlier. I was behaving… inconsiderately.”

She was the one raising her eyebrows in surprise this time. Of all the things for him to say, she didn’t expect that. She wondered briefly if Mr. Brewster had come back to speak with him after chasing after her earlier, to reassure her – although he had done a poor job of it. If it was all the same, she hoped that Mr. Brewster had not spoken to him. She didn’t need his pity, and she didn’t need the Major’s pity either.

“Thank you.” That was all she could think to say. “You are forgiven… Major Tallmadge.” She quickly added, not wanting for forget their formalities. After all, he may be Abe’s friend, but he was still a stranger to her. They had only met once before today; in Setauket when his men had taken the townspeople hostage in the Strong Tavern, on the day Selah Strong was discovered to still be very much alive.

She looked at him, trying to read his face. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he was holding himself back. Finally, he bowed his head slightly, indicating that their conversation was over.

“Madam.” He finally said.

“Major.”

With that, she departed from his tent, dragging an ornery Thomas behind her, and thanking God that she and the Major were able to make peace.


	2. Chapter 2

Ben was annoyed to say the least. He had been sat at his writing desk for he didn’t know how long, with the intentions of sorting through more paperwork. There were scouting reports to be read, and there were reports to be written for the General, and he didn’t have the time to delay his work, for that didn’t prevent another letter from being delivered and left on his desk… and then another and then another and then…

He deeply exhaled as he leaned back in his seat, pushing his shoulders back and letting his head fall back as well, as he felt the joints in his back pop slightly. He moaned quietly as he deepened his stretch; his wooden chair creaking slightly as his weight shifted. Then he unceremoniously found his place again, hunched over his papers, and he suddenly regretted everything. Before, he was struggling to concentrate because of the ache in his shoulders, but now, he was struggling to concentrate because he felt more relaxed, more aware of how tired he actually was. He tried to push the feelings aside and he took one of the papers into his hands once more.

His eyes had skimmed the same sentence five times before he realized that he had not comprehended a word of what he just read. He remained frozen in his position. He knew why he was distracted, but he didn’t want to think more on the matter. It only made the dull pain in his gut become more intense; it caused it to be replaced with a burning pain instead. He had tried to brush it off as anxiety or tiredness; God knew that he had enough of that in the recent months. However, Ben finally couldn’t ignore what had been gnawing at his since that morning. He couldn’t seem to ignore his altercation with Mary Woodhull.

_“Major Tallmadge?”_

_He remembered how hesitant she had been when she first stepped into his tent. He was in the middle of a conversation with Caleb when her quiet voice joined theirs. Ben was grateful for her calm demeanor because the very sight of her caused a panic to well within him._

_“What are you—” He scoffed in disbelief, interrupting himself and pushing passed her to look outside. Luckily, she was alone. But that didn’t change the fact that she could’ve_ _been followed. Or, worse, she could’ve been seen. He knew there were already rumors about the circumstances of his relationship with Anna circulating among camp. The last thing he needed was for the same to happen to Mary as well._

_Mary stood beside him awkwardly. That’s how he thought she appeared: awkward. Like it had taken a lot of courage to make the decision to come here._

_“Am I intruding?” she asked._

_Ben was trying to compose himself, but he could feel the anxiousness welling in his chest. He could feel the tightness at the back of his throat and the buzzing sensation forming in his head. Luckily, he was able to ignore the dizziness and remain upright._

_“Mary, camp followers are not allowed to enter this section of the camp, let alone to walk directly into my tent.” His tone was strained. He sounded harsher than he intended to._

_He watched her as she pursed her lips slightly._

_“Doesn’t Anna Strong?”_

_Ben was suddenly glad he had sounded harsh. He could feel the scowl taking shape on his face. Was she serious? Did she really mean to belittle him with a detail such as that? Was she really so ignorant that she did not understand what he had to do – what Caleb had to do – to ensure that she would be safe and protected here?_

_Despite everything, Ben stuttered out a response. “Well, she’s— she’s—”_

_Mary seemed unfazed by his discomfort though, because she went on, “You said if I needed anything, I should come to you, and I need is information on my husband.”_

_“Information?”_

_“What he’s doing? How he’s doing.”_

_Before Ben could think how to respond, Caleb did so for him, speaking up from where he was seated at the other end of the tent._

_“It’s early, Mary.”_

_And Caleb’s comment gave Ben time to mentally craft his response, “I’m afraid I simply cannot do that, Mrs. Woodhull. Your husband’s mission is highly confidential.”_

_He had used her Christian name before, because he supposed she might consider him a friend; because of Abe. But now, Ben had no intentions of being anything but formal with her._

_“I have a right to be kept informed. Has he joined Arnold yet? Found a way to kill Simcoe?”_

_He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The mission. She knew the whole bloody mission! And that only made the ache in his abdomen tighten into a more uncomfortable knot._

_“How did you know?” he almost growled, struggling to have any composure now._

_“I’m his wife. Who do you think delayed the soldiers while you were burning the hay?”_

_He blinked, taken aback by her words._

_She continued, “I have been helping my husband and thus your cause for some time now, and I deserve to know the truth.”_

_He turned his head away for a moment, bringing a hand to his mouth. The ache in his gut had worsened, and he could feel the bile rising to his throat. This happened sometimes when he became stressed. It had become normal for him. He managed to swallow the bile down again_

_“Ben.” Caleb tried to cut in._

_Ben raised a hand, indicating for his friend to stop._

_“No.” He turned back to look at Mary, and he felt no regret as he spat out his next words, “Madam, while you are amongst this army, you will follow this army’s rules. So long as you wish to remain here, you will obey the chain of command. Is that understood?”_

_If she was angered by his words, she did not let it show on her face. He gained a little more respect for her then. She wasn’t like Anna; she wasn’t driven by emotion. However, thinking back to all that had been said between the two of them, he still felt irritated by her words. He knew this entire thing was Abe’s doing. Abe never should’ve told her about the mission. And that was why Ben allowed himself to be driven by his bitterness, and that was why he added sharply,_

_“Now you will be excused.”_

_That was when he saw the emotion spill onto her features. Her brow furrowed and she narrowed her eyes. She looked hurt by his words, and Ben felt his expression soften in response. He hadn’t meant to offend her. Before he could think of what more to say, she nodded curtly and silently retreated from his tent. He watched her go for a few seconds, and then his attention was back on Caleb. In those seconds, Caleb had risen to his feet, and now he was pushing passed Ben, retreating from the tent as well. Ben knew he was going to console Mary, and for that, he was grateful, because as he stood there, he felt an embarrassed blush rise to his cheeks, and the burning in his stomach only intensified._

Ben remembered the way he had sulked in his tent after their altercation. As soon as he was left to his own devices, he began to replay their conversation over again in his mind. And he remembered his tone, and he remembered her calm demeanor. Perhaps he was being rash? He thought that, even now, as he sat at his writing desk, still staring at the words of the scouting report, but comprehending none of them.

He knew he should apologize. However, Ben was also aware that he was a stubborn man. It wasn’t as if he could go to _her_ , go to her tent among the camp followers and apologize. That would raise too many questions. He could always send Caleb, he supposed, but he doubted his message could be properly conveyed by his friend; Mary may view it as inconsiderate. He inhaled deeply, remembering how he had ordered her not to return to his tent. Only now, he briefly thought, briefly hoped, that perhaps she would defy his orders.

He was suddenly ripped from his thoughts when he heard a sharp _thud_ from behind him. Ben gasped quietly, swiftly rising to his feet, his chair toppling over behind him, and his hand instinctively flew to his belt, to where his knife was. As he turned – his muscles tensing, his heart hammering – to face his potential attacker, his adrenaline quickly dissipated into an alert calmness, because, behind him there was no man. No. The sound had come from his feet, where the young Thomas Woodhull was sat on the ground beside his cot. The boy had tugged Ben’s dragoon helmet from where it was rested on his cot to the ground, and the boy was attempting to pull it into place on his head.

Ben watched his friend’s son curiously for a moment. He felt a small grin tugging on his lips as the boy struggled with the helmet. He had always been fond of the boy. Ben knew that it was wrong to covet what was thy neighbor’s, but this was the one thing he had always been envious of. While Ben had made the decision to leave his position as a schoolmaster, to leave an opportunity to study the law, to instead fight for his beliefs, Abe had done the complete opposite.

While Ben had been away from home, Abe had procured a wife, built a home and farm, and he had a son. Ben had always wanted those things as well, but he made sacrifices so others didn’t have to. He was still firm on his belief, on _that_ belief, but it didn’t deter the feeling of yearning he always felt when he talked to Abe. Whenever Abe spoke of Mary, whenever Abe spoke of Thomas… the feeling of want was almost unbearable.

“Where’s your mama?” Ben asked quietly.

He approached Thomas and knelt down beside him. The boy was still struggling with the helmet. It was far too big for his head, and it hung low over his face, obstructing his vision. Ben grinned as he helped, pushing the helmet up so that the boy could see. Thomas grinned up at him, giggling. The boy quickly became fixated by the horsehairs that were now dangling near his eyes, and he swatted at him, a new wave of laughter making the boy’s body rumble.

Ben had no idea what the boy was doing here, or how the boy had even snuck passed him. But this was good. It may give him an ample excuse to see Mary Woodhull and offer her a proverbial olive branch, as it were. Before Ben could think of what else to say, the boy firmly pointed in the direction over Ben’s shoulder. Ben followed the path the boy was signifying to, and he turned his head, surprised to see Mary Woodhull standing at the entrance of his tent.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, choosing to abandon his place beside Thomas, and he rose to his feet. Mrs. Woodhull looked uncomfortable, and Ben wondered fleetingly how long she had been standing there.

“Mrs. Woodhull.” He greeted, clearing his throat slightly.

“Major.” She bowed her head in response.

They both stood there in silence, neither of them meeting each other’s gaze. Ben knew why she was there. Thomas must’ve wandered off, and she was looking to collect him. He turned back to the boy again, pulling him to his feet. He removed his dragoon helmet from where it was perched on the boy’s head, tucking it under one arm, and taking Thomas’ hand with his free hand.

And then he was only a few paces in front of Mrs. Woodhull. He returned her son to her, and he watched the boy as he struggled against his mother’s grip for a moment before becoming calm and burying his face in her skirts. When he looked back at Mary once more, he noticed she was still refusing to meet his gaze. She looked embarrassed, and he knew he was to blame for the tension experienced during this reunion. Oh how she must hate him.

He cleared his throat again. “Mrs. Woodhull.” He wished he had spent less time sat worrying and more time plotting a proper apology, but this would have to do. “I apologize for my harsh words earlier. I was behaving…” He paused, looking for the appropriate word. “…inconsiderately.”

Her expression relaxed, her eyebrows lifting slightly, as she shifted her eyes to finally look him in the face.

“Thank you.” She said quietly. After a brief pause, she added, “You are forgiven, Major Tallmadge.”

Hearing her say that, he felt a respite he had not felt in a long time, and it made him briefly forget all about the dull aching that was still persistent in his abdomen. He bowed his head in thanks.

“Madam.”

“Major.”

He watched her depart, just like he had watched her the first time. And as she walked away, leading her son behind her, Ben felt the small smirk tugging on his lips again. Although he had not prayed to God in a long time, he found himself falling back into familiar habits, and he briefly thanked God that he and his friend’s wife were able to make peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben's comments about being a schoolmaster and continuing his education to study the law are historically accurate. The historical Benjamin Tallmadge made references to such circumstances in his memoir.
> 
> Personally, I've always thought Ben was under an incredible amount of stress in Season 4. It is for those reasons why I have decided that in this fic, he will suffer from stomach ulcers, anxiety attacks, and general anxiousness. The references to the dull aching and burning sensation in his stomach are because of his undiagnosed stomach ulcers -- more on that in future chapters.
> 
> Additionally, seeing as Ben and Mary are both fairly religious characters, I have decided that that will eventually play a prominent role in this story. While Mary is still strong in her faith, Ben has strayed from his due to the circumstances of the war -- more on that in future chapters.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Mary winced in discomfort before shifting uncomfortably on her stool. She was sat beside Mrs. Barnes, working with the older woman to mend soldiers’ clothing. Mrs. Barnes said that she did this task nearly every day, and Mary couldn’t understand how the woman managed. She had only begun assisting with the mending over the past couple of days, and already her hands were aching and her fingers kept cramping. That morning, she had already dropped her needle a dozen times. Luckily, the thread had caught it each time, suspending it in in the air as it dangled from the most recent pair of socks in her grip. For that she was grateful because she knew if the needle fell to the ground, she would never be able to find it among the dirt and leaves at her feet.

“Mrs. Smith?”

Mary blinked, glancing up at her companion. It took her a second to realize that she was being spoken to. She still wasn’t used to being called by her alias.

“I was just saying, your boy over there is a smart one.”

Mrs. Barnes nodded in the direction of where Thomas. He was only a hundred feet or so away, playing among the sticks and dirt with another camp follower’s child.

Mary was glad her son seemed to be enjoying himself, but she couldn’t help thinking about how unkempt Thomas was already becoming. She felt as if she had just bathed him, and there he was, practically begging for another bath. Back at her farm and later at Whitehall, she only ever had to bathe him once or twice a week. It was different here though. The inconvenience of finding an available washbasin and warm water and having to do so when she was unacquainted with so many of the other women… it made her stomach churn with anxiety just thinking about it. It was an added stress she could do without.

Mary looked over at her companion and feigned a smile, but it was harder than she’d expected. She was exhausted, and her back ached from bending over her lap like this, and she felt sick to her stomach. Perhaps she was coming down with a cold? That was the last thing she needed, and she silently said a prayer to God that that was not the case.

“Thank you.” She said, looking down at her hands once more. “I intend to teach him his letters soon. We’ve practiced before, but with the traveling, we haven’t had the time.”

She noticed Mrs. Barnes grin at the comment, and the reaction made Mary feel a little relieved. Perhaps Thomas could help her get to know other camp followers as well? The childless women always seemed fond of the children they saw running through the tents.

Truth be told, she had always been hesitant of her friendship with Mrs. Barnes. After all, their acquaintance was formed based on the fact that Mrs. Barnes was not fond of Anna Strong, and she was well aware that Mary was not terribly fond of the woman either. That had always made Mary feel a pang of guilt. She didn’t want to forever be cross with Anna Strong. The Lord said to have forgiveness, and that was why Mary had forgiven Abe. As for Anna… Though it had been a long time since what happened between Abe and Anna, Mary was still working on extending her forgiveness towards her husband’s ex-fiancée and ex-lover.

She knew she was being hypocritical. Abe and Anna were equally responsible for what happened all those years ago, yet Mary had been more willing to forgive her husband. She didn’t know why she felt differently about forgiving Anna; she couldn’t explain it. All she knew as that she just needed more time, and she prayed that God would guide her away from her stubbornness.

Finally, Mary couldn’t take it anymore. She set the clothing and needle on the small table that separated her chair from Mrs. Barnes, and she rose to her feet. She only intended to stretch before returning to her work. However, when she rose to her full height, she hesitated. She could feel warm liquid trickling down her inner thigh. And she immediately knew what it was. And suddenly the pain in her abdomen didn’t feel as intense as before, because she knew what its origin was. She had not bled since arriving at camp. It was only a matter of time, and yet she had forgotten all about it. She didn’t know why she always forgot about that fact, yet she did so every month.

She didn’t show her emotion on her face, but internally she was rolling her eyes. Mary softly moaned as she continued with her original plan, and she stretched. Then she spoke in a tone so passive, she surprised herself,

“Mrs. Barnes, will you watch Thomas for a moment?”

“‘Course.”

Mrs. Barnes asked no further questions, and for that, Mary was grateful. She glanced at Thomas one final time before stepping away from the table covered in mended and not yet mended clothing, and she retreated to her makeshift tent.

As soon as she had closed the flap, she wasted no time lifting her skirts to assess herself. As soon as her fingers touched the place between her thighs, she let out an annoyed sigh. Some months she hardly bled at all, but unfortunately that was not the case this month. When she looked at her hand, and as she stared at the crimson blood staining her skin, she considered cursing. In that moment she wished she was brave enough to use language like that.

She sighed in annoyance as she began to undress. She had not packed many clothes – to keep her baggage lightweight – but she had had the sense to pack spare shifts. Once she was redressed in a clean shift and the rest of her dress, and once she had retrieved a handkerchief she kept for moments like this and wadded it in the place between her thighs, she began folding her former shift, trying to hide the bloodstains from view.

When she reemerged from her tent a few minutes later, she did not head in the direction of Mrs. Barnes. She turned in the opposite direction, to where the women who were working on laundry were that day. The area where laundry was done was considered neutral territory in camp. Although the women did the work, soldiers were always coming into the area to collect their freshly laundered clothes.

Mary had helped the followers with laundry many times. And each time she came to this side of camp, she always hated how heavy the air felt. The air around the women swirled with steam, and there was a type of mustiness that hung in the air. Mary didn’t need to say anything when she approached one of the women. The laundress sniffled, wiping the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her arm, then she accepted the folded shift.

“I’ll make sure it gets hung to dry on our side of the line.” The woman grunted.

Mary nodded. “Thank you.”

Organizing laundry was one of the biggest conflicts the camp followers had to deal with. The women had resorted to hanging soldiers’ clothing and the women’s clothing on clotheslines that were on opposite sides of the area they did the washing. Even then, there was no guarantee that one would find their original pair of socks and so on. But as long as the clothing was clean, few seemed to mind.

Mary intended to turn and head back in the direction of Mrs. Barnes, but she hesitated. Even though the women were nosily talking amongst themselves and water was being sloshed and clothes were being beaten against rocks, Mary heard a familiar voice. She slowly maneuvered around the other women until she caught sight of whom the voice belonged to.

“No, not that one!” he said.

It was Major Benjamin Tallmadge. She hadn’t seen him in several weeks; not since Thomas had hidden in his tent. The Major was now the one half hidden. She could make out his form behind the clothing hanging on the clothesline. Mary saw a woman stood facing him. She appeared annoyed to be speaking with the Major. As Mary neared them, she heard more of their conversation.

“Listen, are you sure this was how you found it?” the Major asked.

“Sir, are you calling me a liar?”

“Of course not, ma’am. But are you positive this is how it was on the line?”

“Aye. As soon as clothes are put on that line, not one of us touches them unless we are asked to. You lot are supposed to send someone over to collect for your units, isn’t that correct?”

The Major opened his mouth to say more, but he stopped himself. Just then, Mary had stepped around the clotheslines, and both the Major and the woman caught sight of her.

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

The woman chuckled bitterly, “Since you’re so kind as to ask, it’s your turn to talk some sense into the officer here.”

And with that the woman turned on her heels and walked in the opposite direction. Mary could see the offended look on the Major’s face, but the way he was scowling at the other woman made Mary want to snigger. It seemed such a silly thing for a man like the Major to be frustrated with.

“Is there a problem?” She was stood practically beside him now, and as she took in his appearance, she saw that he wasn’t dressed in his uniform. He was in civilian clothing, with his blue military coat draped over his one arm and wringing a pair of dried socks in his hands.

He glanced down at her briefly and let out a sigh. It was strange for Mary to look up at him; she wasn’t used to the height difference. She was used to Abe’s height, and he and she were nearly equal in that aspect. As for the Major, he was nearly a head taller than herself.

“It appears that Anna is seeing to it that I am being made a fool of.”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Anna? How has she done that?”

He wordlessly passed her the coat. Mary examined it, but on the surface, it appeared fine. Mary glanced up at the Major again.

“I don’t understand.” She said slowly.

“I asked Anna if she would mend my socks and send my coat to be laundered. While my socks are in perfect order, it’s my coat that’s the problem.” He pointed at one part of the material. “Look at the buttons here.”

She did, and she quickly discovered that nearly every button at the top of the coat was loose, hanging only by a thread to the rest of the material. The Major continued,

“My coat was already in fine order when I gave it to Anna. But now look at it! I’m lucky none of the buttons were lost. And what am I supposed to do now? If I ask Anna to see to that as well, how do I know she won’t worsen the state of my uniform?”

Mary shook her head slowly, trying to comprehend everything that was being said.

“I still don’t understand.” She paused. “Why would Anna do something like that?”

She watched him roll his eyes, but he didn’t seem to be annoyed with her, he seemed to be annoyed with Anna… or himself.

“Because we got into a disagreement.”

Mary felt a small smirk tug on her mouth, “So, was this punishment rightly deserved?”

A beat passed, and Mary knew it had been a mistake to say those words. The Major was in no mood for humor. Just like their last encounter, Mary decided to make peace.

“Listen, if it’s truly that much of an issue, then ask another of the women to mend your clothes.”

He shook his head decidedly, “No, I can’t do that.”

“And why not?”

“Because when I do that, my…” he paused, “my clothes go missing.”

She scoffed in disbelief.

“It’s true.” He insisted. “Anna is not the most well-liked woman on this side of camp, am I correct?”

Mary nodded in spite of herself.

“Do you know why that is?”

Truth be told, she didn’t.

He explained, “When Anna first came here, Caleb and I used to visit her often at her cart. It didn’t take long for rumors to circulate that Anna was… that she was in our company for _different_ reasons.”

“Oh.” Mary understood. She had only been living in the camp a little over a month, but she had heard the stories the other women told. The behaviors between the soldiers and camp followers alike were almost as derelict as the state of the camp followers’ side of camp.

He continued, “We stopped visiting her as openly, but she says the women still talk. When all this first happened, I asked another woman to assist me. I hoped it would draw suspicion away from Anna. But each time I did so, articles of my clothing would go missing. Anna’s sure the women were doing so to tease both her and myself...”

“And what of Mr. Brewster?” Mary found herself asking. “Does the same apply to him?”

He looked away for a moment before saying,

“Caleb has… bedded plenty of women on this side of camp.” He sounded embarrassed to be telling her this. Mary wished she was embarrassed by his words, yet she wasn’t. She was unsurprised by stories like these. She had become used to learning unexpected things about Abe’s friends. This was no different. “Some of those women he still visits, and their fondness of him protects him from being swept into this scheme involving Anna and myself.”

Mary listened to all of this, and she couldn’t help thinking how foolish everything sounded. It was all so useless. Then again, a lot of what some people did was also useless, yet they did it anyway. She wasn’t in Setauket anymore. Society here was different, and although she may find it silly, she knew she must become used to it. And that was why she said,

“I’ll do it then.”

“Pardon?”

“Send your clothes to me. I’ll mend them.”

He looked at her, and she could tell he was taken aback.

“When I’m finished, I’ll find a way to return them to you. That way, Anna won’t have the opportunity.” She added.

A beat.

“I don’t want your reputation to be besmirched because of this.” He said quietly.

“My reputation is already besmirched enough.”

They both knew she was referring to the affair between Abe and Anna.

“Besides,” she shrugged, “I’m new here. I know not enough women who will tell me to do otherwise. By time any of them discover, it will be too late. We will already have a routine.” She held his coat closer to her form, almost to reassure him that she could not be dissuaded. “I’ll start with this.” She said. “I’m sure you need it at once, so I’ll mend it and see that it’s returned to you before the day is up.”

His expression softened, and it reminded her of how he had looked at Thomas all those weeks ago.

“Thank you.” Was all he could think to say. “No, really, thank you, Mary.”

She faintly smiled, “My pleasure, Major.”

“You don’t need to call me that all the time, you know? My name is Benjamin. First and foremost, I hope you view me as your husband’s friend, and not as an officer.”

She digested his words for a few seconds.

“As I said, I’ll see that this finds you before the end of the day… Major.”

They each bowed their heads slightly, in a quiet goodbye, and then she turned away, heading back in the direction of Mrs. Barnes. And what she didn’t know was that he watched her until she disappeared into the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The information about camp followers' laundry organization is completely made up. I couldn't find any sources about how laundry was sorted or returned to soldiers, so I improvised.


End file.
